


The unfortunate demise of humanity's last (Or the Scarlet Screamer)

by BlueLight333



Category: First work
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Insanity, Murder, Nature, New Species, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLight333/pseuds/BlueLight333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has been ripped from it's concrete skin by the unbound power of nature's revenge. Chaos and gangs have had their storms of the fading remnants of homes and streets, but once more nature cut them off before they reached a chorus, what used to be household pets and loved cuddly animals were transformed, their hundred year evolution replaced by days,unseen, wild species emerge from their skins into ruthless hunters and killers. </p><p>However humanity's light has yet to fully die.<br/>Three resilient survivors weathered the initial storms, the banker, the teacher and the judge donned new work suits of steel tools and camouflage cloth. They had mapped the lands, mastered the new ever tropical climate and had chronicled every evolution that nature molded into docile city animals and despite all that had gone wrong with the world they felt safe...</p><p>Until the church<br/>Will they live with what nature has thrown their way now? Will James manage to keep his sanity? Will Marvin resist the temptations he kept within so long? And when the time comes will Grant be able to go through with it?</p><p>All will be revealed among the lines of this work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The way it all began, and the way everything ended

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone so yes this is my very first work, and I would absolutely love any feedback, keep in mind however that constructive rather then destructive comments are preferred *being mean never helped anyone get anything done* so yes, enjoy! Read! and be sure to tell me what you thought!
> 
> This is a dedicated work  
> For the friend I couldn't keep  
> Hope they have good WiFi up there!  
> -V.Y

For many the day of the Great Overhaul reminded people of green leaves and chaotic attempts that the authorities gave at order. But Grant remembers exactly what had started that fateful day, a single, hastily uttered word.

"Shit"  
Moaned Grant as he saw the notifications on his phone screen. 6:00 AM ALARM SILENCED AFTER ONE MINUTE, 8:22 AM it read much to Grant's annoyance, he never heard it unless it was turned all the way up, he looked to the Clock app and saw much what he expected; ALARM VOLUME: 45, his finger must have slipped as he sleepily set it after last night's festivities he thought as he bolted into his cramped apartment bathroom and snatched the deodorant off it's middle shelf, it was down to its bare bones but it would do for one more use.

 "Of all the days, out of all 365 of them your daft finger had to slip on this one didn't it Grant?" He said as he gave his mirror a look of annoyance, but his unshaven and hungover reflection had nothing to say for itself so Grant turned to his shaving cream.

The rest of his morning ablutions were in most ways similar to his breakfast, hurried and not quite all there. His morning meal consisted of the typical potpourri that was held inside of a single man's fridge, nearly expired milk poured into the dwindling remnants of his cereal, washed down with tea that was brewed with semi-warm tap water and not fully stirred sugar. He tried desperately to dig up and old pack of gum he knew he had in his usual work coat to clear out the horrid aftertaste of that tea as he ran down to the garage keys in hand. On his way down he ran into his neighbor, Mrs. Twiddely, a kind elderly woman who had no objection to offering some of her leftover pies after her grandchildren's visits to Grant.

 "Hello dear, oh but you're not going out there in that coat are you?" She asked with a concerned, motherly tone.

 "Well of course I am Mrs. Twiddely, its the middle of September!" Exclaimed Grant all but failing to conceal the agitation that such an absurd question brought with it.

 "Oh but my dear you'll cook, all that humidity? haven't you seen the news?" She asked, for once it seemed that Mrs. Twiddely had gotten ahead of Grant on current events.

 "Humidity?" Asked Grant confused, making it plainly known that he indeed had not seen the news.

 "Well you do look rushed so I can understand, apparently the weather people called it a record spike, never seen one like it." She finished as Grant's expression went from simple confusion to befuddlement.

"Well I'll certainly watch out for it, thank you, have a great day" said Grant hurriedly as he remembered his half-failed mission to make it in time for the review. She waved a kindly goodbye and gave a few more motherly warnings about road vigilance and the like as she hobbled with her ever faithful walker into the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors quietly slid shut so did the garage door fly open at Grant's hasty hand, but the first thing that hit him wasn't the usual frigid cold morning air but rather an immovable wall of humidity and tropic heat. Immediately he ditched his jacket so bad was the air around him, he held it by the collar in his left hand as his right tried frantically to locate the car key on the ring before his hasted pace got him to his humble little car standing in it's usual unlit corner of the garage. He stabbed the worn metal teeth of the key into the door slot, the remote had long since broken from an unfortunate encounter with a set of shoes and a concrete floor.

The drive to the school he taught at was not lined with its usual scenery of drab cars making their way to grey office buildings, rather drab cars making their way to half visible office buildings, there was a thick, almost impenetrable wall of foggy, humid air, obscuring the view of everything more then a few meters away, the trees along the sides of the road had also changed, overnight seemingly, just late last night Grant saw their mostly bare, shedding branches, but this morning they seemed to have their own private Spring, the green leaves had returned and they seemed a bit thicker.

 "How bad did we fuck up the planet this time?" Asked Grant quietly as he sweated away in his little grey pod.

 

Several streets down however, Marvin was already at his little office, eagerly awaiting clients that would ask him what to do with their money. Of course, Marvin could only figuratively be eager, since a young age he found it... difficult to feel and express his emotions. However it made him become an exceptional actor, even his happy wife and two young boys had no idea of his lack of empathy. This made him feel something similar to a sort of pride, however with his... affliction it was difficult to identify it completely. But he brushed these thoughts aside as he plastered on a masterful fake smile for the married couple making a b-line for his desk.

 "Good afternoon, my name is Marvin, are you new clients or some of our valued preexisting card carriers?" He said as he offered the two a seat at his desk with an indication of his hand.

 "No we're here to actually set up a joint checking account" said the man as he happily grasped his wife's hand, and smiled at her with a genuine affection Marvin could never quite pull off, this sparked a hint of something similar to envy in his unflinching heart.

 "That's an awesome idea! The wife and I just opened up one of our own, we found it very beneficial, are you thinking a standard account or would you like to have a look at our silver and gold services?" Asked Marvin keeping up the same, perfect, happy facade, the couple said they needed some time to think so him being an experienced banker Marvin stepped out into the lounge, business as usual.

Almost as soon as his foot crossed the door his phone rang, the contact told him it was his wife, Marian. Despite emotions being almost entirely foreign to him he enjoyed the stability and the knowledge that for stupid, emotional reasons someone loved him unflinchingly, such was his reasoning for marriage, more of an owner-pet relationship in his cold green eyes.

 "Honey, have you seen what's happening out there?" She asked frantically, she was a late riser so he assumed he meant the tropics he saw on his way to work.

 "Yes dear I saw the fog and the new leaves, no biggie I'm sure the authorities will sort us through it" he said putting on yet another masterful imitation, this time of someone capable of a comforting tone.

 "No, honey.... look outside it's all... oh god!" She exclaimed, curiosity rather then fear gripped hold of Marvin as he bolted outside. there were already 4 people at the door.

 "My god!" Exclaimed the first

 "How in the world?" Asked the second

 "What has humanity done this time?" Demanded the third

 "What are we gonna do" Inquired the fourth

 "Interesting" said the cold and unflinching Marvin under his breath.

At the same time halfway across town a court hearing presided with the honor-full judge James Hoskin at it's head. James was never cut from the robe's cloth, he was a shy, insecure man, so knew the few friends that he had. But at his place of work no criminal was any wiser, all they would see is another high and mighty man in a robe deciding their fate.

 "The court calls for a 10 minute recess, maybe by then the defense will have their case straight" said James with his usual high powered tone. The rustle of clothing and papers being straightened as people got up could be heard and James himself was dying for a coffee and maybe he would be in time to grab a hasty vending machine breakfast as he so often had to with early trials. He got up and exited through the small, plain oak door he always left out of. His route to the half-made coffee and questionable breakfast lay across a glass lined corridor, an architectural choice he never understood for a court room, after all, it was not unheard of for hits to be arranged for the big criminals during their hearings to avoid unnecessary talk, and such a choice put them in a particularly vulnerable place if anyone say wanted to place a few well aimed shots. However instead of seeing his usual mix of sidewalk and busy road, the sight he was greeted with still sends a jolt of bewilderment and fear through him to this very day.

The skies were almost entirely blocked by trees that seemed hundreds, thousands of years old, their mighty branches easily as thick as his waist, some of them even bore fruits, none of them he recognized. He remembered feeling a slight quake during the hearing but this was common this close to a fault line and he certainly knew that it could not have possibly caused something so... grand. He stared at the forest he was in, it almost seemed to avoid the buildings, only things such as vines latched to their brick defenses, but the new and at the same time seemingly ancient trees did nothing to even touch them, something he registered as strange in the back of his already bewildered mind.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed as he stared, wide eyed in terror at the blocked out sky.


	2. New world, old news

The day the Great Overhaul began was September the twelfth 2016, what happened during the days following was not reported on the television sets or declared through the radio speakers, for the steel power lines were replaced with mighty green vines and every radio tower was bested by the new, gargantuan trees. However some independent newspapers kept printing primitive, hand pressed sheets of priceless information on any bits and pieces of paper left after humanity began resorting to fires for warmth and light.  
  
Each of the three survivors you met previously carried a snippet of the news that was important to them in one form or another, be it the original press with personal alterations and highlights or a handmade copy made when the cheap ink began to fade. These are the transcripts of these snippets.  
  
Forever lodged in James's boot lining, extracted only when he needed some confirmation that the world did indeed undergo some great change and the unhampered wild nature had not always ruled existence is the following article printed haphazardly on a bit of lined, hole-punched and worn paper.  
  
**RELIGIOUS GANGS CLAIM TERRITORY          September, 26th, 2016**  
  
**GATHERED UNDER THE BURNING CROSSES AND FLYING BANNERS GANGS PREACHING THE "WORDS OF GOD" TOOK STREETS HOWENBURG THROUGH MAIN AND ALL STRUCTURES NEAR THEM. UNFORTUNATELY WE CANNOT PUT ANY EXACT FIGURES BEFORE OUR READERS DUE TO THE RESTRICTIONS ON ENTRY AND EXIT THESE GANGS HAVE PLACED AROUND THE AREA.**  
  
**HOWEVER WE CAN REPORT THE ESTIMATES THAT OFFICIALS HAVE PUT IN PLACE REGARDING THE MATTER, THIS IS WHAT POLICE CHIEF FRANK WONG HAD TO SAY.**  
  
 "We cannot quite yet be sure completely but our best possible estimate is no more then ~~306 individuals are currently held captive in the restricted area.~~ _308, LIARS, DAMNED BUREAUCRATIC LIARS! "-_ And we are are glad to report that while we are not quite able to break the perimeter we were assured that the gangs have not harmed anyone within and will keep the peace as long as they are permitted to "Practice what they preach" without outside interference." **THIS IS NOT HOWEVER A PROBLEM ONLY FOR THOSE TRAPPED INSIDE BUT ALSO FOR THOSE RESTRAINED FROM THEIR FAMILIES WITHIN. WE HAVE REPORTS THAT THE HONORABLE JUDGE HOSKIN IS CURRENTLY NEGOTIATING FOR THE RELEASE OF HIS WIFE AND 10 YEAR OLD BOY, HE IS NOT THE ONLY ONE ATTEMPTING THIS BUT HE APPEARS TO BE THE ONLY ONE HAVING ANY ~~REAL SUCCESS NEGOTIATING A RELEASE~~** _I failed them!  Oh god why  wouldn't they let me at least see them?_    
  
The remainder of the article is cut. However the observant reader will have guessed how things turned out. From the simple fact that James is a survivor without his family the reader would have correctly guessed that the negotiations indeed did fail and when the hunger, the never ending hunger got too much for the gangs their preachers declared to them exactly what use leftovers of the original 308 and prisoners could be. When asked by his two unlikely companions in survival what had come of his family during the rare moment of rest they were given he would give a bitter smile and simply say.  
  
"It was those damned bureaucrats"  
  
Meanwhile, hidden and kept lovingly in an old mint tin somewhere near Marvin's cot is a rather strange snippet of the past, not for it's contents but for it's lack of relation with the Great Overhaul. however despite its unrelated nature it does contain several measures that the authorities's dwindling forces attempted to apply to keep peace and structure. It reads as follows.  
  
**32 BODIES FOUND DURING ATTEMPTED ROADWORK IN THE ARENA.ST VICINITY             October, 19th, 2016**

  
**AS ROAD AUTHORITIES ATTEMPTED TO ENFORCE CHARGE ON A CASE OF REWIRING THE CITY'S LIMITS WITH NEW ROAD SYSTEMS THEY WERE RATHER FORCED TO HAND OVER THEIR COMMAND TO ANOTHER AUTHORITY, THE POLICE. AS DUE TO ONE LUCKY EXCAVATOR SCOOP A NEW PIECE OF EVIDENCE AROSE ON THE "Wendigo Killer" OR TO BE MORE EXACT, 32 NEW PIECES OF EVIDENCE. 32 MOSTLY UNIDENTIFIABLE CORPSES, ALL AT DIFFERENT STAGES OF DECAY WERE FOUND AT A MASS GRAVE ON WHAT WAS LEFT OF THE INTERSECTION ARENA.ST AND CHURCH ROAD.**  
  
**THE DETECTIVES IN CHARGE OF THE WENDIGO KILLER'S CAPTURE; ~~DET. LAWSON AND DET. FREEMAN~~**   _Damned fools!_ **-SAY THAT THIS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH EVIDENCE TO BRING IDENTITY TO AND TAKE IN THE INFAMOUS KILLER, HOWEVER DUE TO THE EFFECT THE "Mighty Overhaul" IS HAVING ON THEIR DEPARTMENT'S FUNDING THE EVIDENCE PROCESSING WILL TAKE SIGNIFICANTLY LONGER THEN STANDARD.**  
  
**WE HERE AT THE PRINTING PRESS WISH ALL THE BEST TO THE INVESTIGATORS HOPING TO SHED SOME LIGHT ON THESE HORRIFIC MURDERS DESPITE THE HARDSHIPS THAT THESE TURBULENT CHANGES HAVE PUT ON US ALL**  
  
The Wendigo Killer as far as older prints by the same source report, is a cannibalistic murderer with a sick sense of humor. He would kidnap his victims, usually young and attractive females in their mid twenties from their homes and bleed them to death. He was extremely methodical with his kills, the bleeding site was never the same, condemned homes, abandoned factories, dark and un-trailed woods. He would, once the process was done write a taunt like  _COME AND CATCH ME PIGS_ or something along the lines of  _POOR LITTLE BLUES, ANOTHER ONE WENT PALE ON YOUR WATCH._  In the bloodand would then use the rest of the blood to splash around the site haphazardly so as to knock any other evidence out of discovery.   
  
Once the bleed was done he would then proceed to bite into his victims. But not before leaving yet another calling card, a fully made, untouched pizza, buried under the head of the torn up victim like a pillow. Indicating that he very well could afford other food but simply preferred consuming human meat just for the sake of it. However he appeared not only deeply demented but also highly methodical. The instruments were never found, and all the bite marks were destroyed with a small, serrated blade to avoid any detection via dental records.  
  
When his fellow survivors questioned why he kept such a strange article he would say, with a perfect mock of an angry, resentful voice.  
  
"He cost me my family" which was indeed true, Marian Goldman and her two children, John and Anthony were found killed in the same sadistic and cannibalistic manner as the rest. Seeing and being fooled by the flawless execution of resentment and pain the two would leave the topic alone and no more would be said about it.  
  
Grant however, had no family, but that did not stop one article being dear to his memory. Or rather a never failing reminder of being able to do what is best before it is too late.  
  
                                                                                                 **SCHOOL FORT FALLS FROM WITHIN                                                       NOVEMBER, 23rd, 2016**  
  
**IN THE MORNING'S EARLY HOURS THE VERY LAST BEACON OF STABILITY AND SECURITY HAD FALLEN DUE TO AN INTERNAL SECURITY ERROR. ST. AGNES SECONDARY SCHOOL WAS KNOWN TO ALL OF US THAT HAVE SURVIVED THIS LONG AS A SAFE HAVEN FOR FAMILIES, KEPT SAFE BY FORMER TEACHERS AND SERVICE PERSONNEL THAT EXCHANGED THEIR CHALK AND BOARD FOR BULLET AND RIFLE FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN THEY SWORE TO KEEP SECURE.**  
  
  
**THIS IS HOWEVER NO LONGER THE CASE**  
  
**AT AROUND 5 AM A NEW, UNSEEN BREED OF WILD ATTACK DOG AROSE ONCE MORE. BUT NOT JUST ANYWHERE, RIGHT IN THE SCHOOL'S BOILER ROOM. AS ALL THOSE OF US SURVIVORS ARE ARE AWARE THE "Great Shift" IN THE DOG SPECIES STARTED WITH THE SMALLEST ONES, WHAT IS LEFT OF THE SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTIONS SAY THIS IS BECAUSE THEY ARE "Furthest from their wolf ancestors"  WHAT USED TO BE A GERMAN SHEPPARD BEFORE ITS SHIFT TORE THROUGH DOORS AND PEOPLE ALIKE. ACCORDING TO FORMER ENGLISH TEACHER MR. GRANT CRAY IT CLAIMED THE LIVES OF 45 OF THE 53 TEACHERS, AND A TEAR BRINGING 78 OF THE 82 CHILDREN AND ADULTS THAT SOUGHT SHELTER WITH THE SCHOOL.**  
  
**ALSO ACCORDING TO MR.CRAY THE BOILER ROOM APPEARED TO BE A SORT OF KENNEL FOR THE MONSTER BEFORE IT TURNED, FOOD SCRAPS AND A CHAIN WERE FOUND IN THE NORTHEAST CORNER OF THE ROOM.**  
  
**THIS IS A FURTHER REMINDER IN THESE DAYS OF CHAOS AND PREDATORS TO ALWAYS HAVE A READY HAND ON THE TRIGGER OR THE GRIP OF A BLADE.**  
  
**AS ALWAYS WE ARE NOT SURE HOW MUCH LONGER WE CAN KEEP PRINTING, OUR SUPPLIES ARE DWINDLING FAST, BUT IF WE ARE UNABLE TO WRITE AGAIN WE BID ALL OF OUR READERS AS ALWAYS, A HAWK'S EYE AND A CHEETAH'S SPEED WHILE TRAVERSING THE NEW TROPICS.**  
  
  
  
The paper never did print again, their last issue was indeed November the 23rd, 2016, printed on an array of anything from what was left of the printer paper to even the backs of rock band posters.   
  
And that was the last day that humanity had seen infrastructure. In a mere 3 months and 11 days phone lines were severed, either for the precious wire back when there was a trade for it of simply consumed by the New Tropics, internet and cell towers were either destroyed in the riots or corroded by the new, highly humid air and fast winds. and that unfortunate school, that little beacon of candlelight and hope, was as far as anyone knew the very last public safe haven.  
  
And as far as the owners of those three articles were concerned they were the very last of humanity, bound together, waiting out their days hoping in vain that they would find someone else.  
Well...  
In vain at least until they found the church.

 


	3. Notebook Entries and New Faces

Grant woke to the same sounds that jolted him from sleep for the past few months. James's gardening, and Marvin's humming.  
  
If one were to look out of the broken windows of their barricaded home they would see at almost any time of day a tired but content James plucking away at weeding or pulling out precious few edible plants from their earthly bonds. James was never a good shot or a fast pace climber like Grant was, nor did he have a good enough understanding of the culinary applications of the new herbs like Marvin did, however what he could do even before this all started was maintain a good garden.  
  
"Plants are just like people, you gotta show them attention all the same, and if you do they'll reward you" his wife Julia would tell him as she smiled up from her flowers. But James tried pushing her out of his mind like he always has for the sake of his fleeting mental stability, with a good stab of his little fold-out shovel into the warm, tropic soil.  
  
_Thunk!_  
  
"What the?" Inquired James as he began brushing dirt off of... something.  
  
Meanwhile a floor up and down a corridor Marvin was humming away over the group's breakfast. The stew he was so diligently slaving over consisted of Grant's last hunt and James's recent harvest of the plants Grant's meticulously kept notebook deemed "Highly edible".  Marvin rather enjoyed the power of being the group cook. What power could there possibly be in being a cook you ask? Well Marvin kept a little book of his own, of a rather... Special variety of herbs, just in case it would one day better benefit him to survive alone. And so with that knowledge he contently hummed away his tune and calmly stirred the brew. As he did this, in the very next room, full of cots and personal affects sat Grant, fastening his boot laces and preparing his little rucksack for the days hunt and gathering. He scratched his semi-kept beard as he grabbed his faithful rifle. It was an old M1 Garand with a worn wooden stock and telescopic sight, as most of the land's animals are far too dangerous to hunt close range, as he did every day he checked the barrel and the movement for any errors.  
  
And in in the course of another morning ritual he reached into his breast pocket and removed three bullets bound together by a length of masking tape which had two words written on it in fading pen.  _Plan Z_ , every day he would take a few seconds to look at them and contemplate loading them into the magazine and....  
_Not today_  he thought,  _not today_  as he put away the bundle and entered the kitchen where Marvin was already setting the large, steaming bowl on the wooden table they salvaged from the basement.

"Yenno one day the birds will beat you to your portion of the food mate" said Marvin gesticulating with the large knife he used for anything from chopping to stirring as any other cooking utensils were scarce and almost impossible to find.

"I'm sure you'd shoo them off, after all I'm almost certain they would not be as wiling to bring back their catch." Replied Grant sitting down and pulling out his precious spork, it spared him from eating with his hands or the knife he used to finish off kills so he kept it with him at all times, even though his two companions were bound to him for his hunting and wildlife knowledge he still wouldn't put it past one of them "borrowing" such a luxury. As Marvin and Grant began devouring the stew with vigor, James burst into the room, wide eyed and covered in dirt, he was waving something in front of Grant's face, something that looked like... a helmet.   
  
"What the fuck happened to you" asked Marvin, a bit of meat hovering between the plate and his mouth as he looked over James's state.  
  
"Digging" he said hurriedly and seemingly out of breath. At the same time Grant slowly took the helmet from James's hands and examined it.   
  
"Well um, thanks for the... Helmet, I'll be sure to wear it if I ever find a bicycle" said Grant as he turned it over, it appeared to be a made from back Kevlar, shaped almost like those the SWAT teams wore.  
  
"No but look what I found inside the helmet smart-ass" said James sounding less excited and more annoyed at his friend's responses as he pulled a white square and handed it to Grant. He took it from James and unfolded it, it looked to be a hand-drawn map of the nearby area after the Overhaul took hold. But there was one feature that stood out, a crudely drawn church circled twice in red pen.  
  
"I put the two together maybe this is where the owner of the helmet is" said James returning to his excited state. Fluctuations in his mood like this were not uncommon as the group slowly found.  
  
"James, buddy, we've been over this-" Began Marvin putting on a fantastic imitation of concern but he was swiftly cut off.  
  
"I know and he may not be there but think about it, that looks like a tactical helmet to me and maybe, there's supplies at this church that he left behind" Said James, Marvin shook his head but Grant saw reason in this and nodded.  
  
"I'll swing by after breakfast" said Grant as he returned to his meal.  
  
A few minutes and two extra gear checks later, armed with his new map Grant set out to find the church. James returned back to his usual quiet demeanor and continued gardening. Grant worried about him, not entirely for his sake but rather for his own also, for is James one day snapped he too had a gun with him...  
  
With this thought Grant loaded a bullet into the chamber as he always did before he set out and carried the rifle aloft as he began his way down the crude trail he cleared with a machete in the early days of him settling the area, strangely enough any alterations done entirely by hand without machinery seemed not to grow back overnight as they would otherwise. On his way he decided to check the traps he set the other day, to his disappointment he found no small game ensnared in his woven traps and decided to shoot something on his way back. He couldn't help noticing once more how... Almost peaceful the trail appeared, the new birds singing away with the old, critters and bugs slaving away on the fallen branches and grasses. A small part of him wanted little more then to curl up in a ball here and never move again, give up, let nature finally win and simply stop all the fighting.  
  
_Not today_ Grant thought once more, for he realized that today he was on a mission, he shook his head and pressed on with a double pace.  
  
When he reached a kilometer vicinity to the church his trail ran to an end, he simply never needed to go this far. So he gripped his rifle tighter, gaining a shred of reassurance from its cold, wooden grip. His worn leather boots crunched as he crushed branches, leaves and insects alike beneath them. After a few minutes walking he heard a sound.  
A low, terrifying growl from the trees up ahead. Almost immediately he thought back to that day. The dog, the crashes.... The screams, with that thought his heart raced and he swiftly slammed the rifle into his shoulder, looking around now with the rifle's barrel ahead of him, and his finger carefully placed on the trigger providing some comfort.  
  
Out from behind the tree he was aiming at came a a slinking, light brown killing machine, a Poodle Wolf. In Grant's notebook this beast's entry reads as follows.  
  
**POODLE WOLF** (EVOLUTION)  
  
_The next step in the Poodle's evolutionary ladder, like many small dogs this one too became something highly similar to a wolf._  
-Height: Averaging at around 10 hand lengths (horizontal) from paw to snout.  
-Weight class: Very heavy  
-Diet: New horned deer as well as other dog breeds smaller then it, however if threatened will kill other species, threats usually then eaten.  
-Distinctive features: Like many poodles this evolution has a slight furry growth in a ball shape at the end of it's tail, some even have similar growths on the tops of their heads  
-Coloring: White mostly, mixed in with a few brown and red variants  
  
  
Of course Grant knew all that by heart and subconsciously went over it as he lined up his shot. The creature's brown, threatening eyes locked on with Grant's blue ones through the scope. He saw the creature's legs tense up and it stop advancing, it was about to pounce.  
_Grrrrr_  
_BANG!_  
The creature was no more, mere seconds before it lunged Grant with cold precision put a hole between the creature's eyes with only a familiar jerk of his rifle digging into his shoulder to show for it. The thing fell to the ground with a sound every experienced hunter enjoys hearing;  _Thump!_ Soon as the shot was made dozens of birds could be seen flying off their branches in fear.   
  
He approached the fallen beast with his machete drawn, there was no way he could carry the entire thing back to his shelter so he choose the legs and the flank, he cut them off with surgical precision and measure only a man familiar with the process would have. Once the bloody procedure was done he stuffed the parts into a trash bag he carried so that fresh kills wouldn't bleed into his ruck and so that other predators nearby wouldn't smell it out as easily. He took the black bundle and stuffed it inside his pack. As he did he looked up and saw something.... Irregular, there were no straight lines in the new tropics, and yet there it was, a black cross silhouetted against the sunny sky, he followed it down and realized that what he mistook for a collection of bushes and foliage was in reality an extremely overgrown church, covered in vines almost entirely, however some remnant of the white paint could be seen.  
  
"Well, I've reached my destination I guess" said Grant to himself as he often did on these lone expeditions, he often wondered if that was a sign that he was winding down James's path of instability. But he shook that thought out of his head once more and approached the church door. Despite it being covered in vines it appeared that someone did use this door after the growth took over, there were almost surgical incisions at the exact edges of the door, outlining it in a way. Since the handle could not be seen Grant had to use his machete to pry the door open, it swung ajar with a loud, pained squeal of un-oiled hinges. He flinched at the noise, for as he learned in his early expeditions, the new forest doesn't like man-made sounds.  
  
Upon entry he saw much what he expected, a deserted church hall, the benches where people once prayed lay broken and eaten by the termites and other critters, the once glorious stained windows lay in ruin, shattered and overgrown, their pieces strewn around the pedestal before which a man with a booming voice would preach to his flock. However something else hit him, like the unfiltered sunlight through the shattered windows, a horrid rotting meat smell nearby. He scanned the area with more determination and found three bodies laying behind the pedestal on the raised platform. He ran over to them, hoping like a naive child that they were alive, however once he reached them he saw that this was no longer the case. The three bodies consisted of two men in black tactical uniforms, one missing a helmet and each of their decaying hands holding a sidearm, they didn't look old, maybe a day and a half old at the most. It appeared as though they both killed each other, in the same place at the same time. There were two holes in each of their rotting heads, one small, round and neat on the right, and on the left, a large, jagged hole, so messy, so irregular one would think that the two were unrelated, however an experienced man will tell you that while the entry wound may look regular, the exit wound is also made by the pressure, speed, and flying bone fragments that the bullet creates on it's way through the head. Seeing no reason not to take advantage of the opportunity, Grant took the weapon with the least stains on it and took all the ammunition that the two men were carrying, which wasn't much, four magazines between them. They had nothing else on them, which made Grant think that they came to this place with only the purpose of ending their lives in mind.  
  
However the third was a more interesting study. It was a woman, with long,  black messy hair, sharp features made more obvious my her thinning figure, one would presume she was starved before she died. Her clothes looked to be normal street clothes from before the Overhaul, worn and faded beyond belief which made Grant think she was sheltered somewhere before she came here. But her skin was a more interesting study, it was a light shade of crimson, like she was blushing but all over her body, her exposed arms and feet were just as flushed as her face. Even the part of her chest left open by the faded blue shirt's neck was red, rising and falling...  
_Wait_ thought Grant.  
She was breathing, and she was not decayed like the other two, she was alive! Immediately upon realizing this he lunged to her neck and felt for a pulse, it was weak but present, overwhelmed with joy, and surprise of finding another living being he scooped her bony frame into his hands and began his walk out of the church when he heard it.  
_Screeeeeetch!_  
  
In Grant's notebook was an entry that explained this sound in horrifying detail.  
  
**BAT HAWKS** (Evolution/cross-breed)  
_The bat hawk is a bat evolution, which made standard bats the sizes of small gliders, as well as their ditching their cousin's nocturnal habits the bat hawk is notable for razor sharp beaks and talons and a rather acute taste for human meat, not much can be noted about it due to the near impossibility to bring one down, however there is one thing someone that heard it's terrifying scream..._  
  
_RUN!_

 


	4. Screams of the Hunter's Past

"Fuck!"

_Bang!_

Such was Grant's exchange with the massive black shadow that was encircling the church. He fired round after round out of the broken church windows but they didn't appear to do anything but annoy it, and to his misfortune his magazine ran dry, and the hunter knew from the lack of effect that there was no point reloading. He knew it was only a matter of time until it got in so he racked his brains for a way out. As he did he danced from foot to foot in fear.  
  
_Clink!_  
  
Such was the sound of his salvation. He accidentally stepped on one of the black clad corpses during his dance and heard a subtle clink. He looked down and saw a ring poking out from beneath his tactical vest, partially concealed by his breast pocket. He knew that if the blast was close enough the creature wouldn't stand a chance, but to throw it close enough and time it just right was more then impossible it was madness.  
  
But maybe if he...  
  
Caught on this new train of hope and a single mad idea Grant yanked the grenade from the corpse's clothes. From the looks of it it appeared to be a fragmentation grenade. This was going to me messy but it was his only way out. He lodged the cold metal in the mushy jagged hole in the poor bastard's head, it was kept warm by the tropic heat and he could feel that the brain was much softer then it's meant to be. A man untouched by the New Tropics would gag at the mere thought but Grant was a hunter, this was a feeling customary to his hands. Once he felt the grenade was firmly lodged in the dead man's head he began to withdraw a length of twine. He could feel the creature's presence almost directly above the church, the thing was silent, Grant knew this to be a bad sign, it was close. This and the thought of another new human life resting in his hands hastened his tying of the twine through the pin of the deadly device.  
  
Only one more piece of the checklist left, the execution of his mad scheme.  
  
_Thump!_  
The unsuspecting creature's superb hearing picked up the sound of a corpse hitting the remnants of the church's front lawn. It's outstanding sense of smell picked up the scent of a human body, bleeding and damaged. It was already swooping down upon it, the creature saw a black clad man laying face down on the jungle floor. This was too good an opportunity to pass up, it had been so long since the creature tasted human flesh. Immediately it forgot the pesky shooting man within the church's walls and began devouring the easy meal. It's razor sharp teeth barely registered a cold, round object being pulled from it's mouth by a vine, however it ignored the sensation and savored in the meal, the man was gone whole in second, suddenly however....  
__  
  
  
_BANG!_  
  
Chunks of flesh and metal rained from the sky to the church walls and roof. Grant lunged atop the still breathing woman to shield her in case the shrapnel got through the rotting structure, however the flying monster's body slowed the shards significantly so all they did was got lodged in the walls. He let out a laugh, mocking those he heard in mad-scientist movies. He rolled off the poor red woman, he hadn't felt such relief in a long long time, the thrills of the jungle's beasts no longer phased him, but he may have been the very first to bring down this variety of killer. He walked over to his trusty rifle which he dropped in his haste to prepare the grenade, he pulled out his second magazine, he had spent all eight rounds of his last one, he then chambered one with a satisfying  _CLICK_.  
  
When he had given himself a thorough inspection for any injuries he knelt beside the crimson colored woman. She looked no older then 35, and every one of her features was like those he'd pass back when there were streets, but that red skin gave him a sinister feeling, it wasn't a natural color human skin should hold, she was flushed, nearly blood red. As he contemplated what to do with her she began stirring, her eyes flitted open and she gasped in a lungful of air.

"Hello...?" She said looking at Grant, her voice was soft, kind and gentle, but Grant's ears had heard nothing but the gruff voices of his companions in survival and the terrible growls of the New Tropics so he couldn't help but jump back slightly.  
   
"Um, are you OK?" He asked looking at her with a remnant of the initial shock still in his eyes, he instinctively kept his finger on the trigger guard of his weapon.  
  
"I'm fine I just need-" She began but her eyes rolled back into her head, but instead of the milky white Grant was expecting the eye sockets were filled with a deep black, a horrifying sneer stretched across her face and she spoke with a tone closer to the Bat Hawk's screech then a human voice. Grant jumped back, and raised his rifle instinctively.  
  
"Poor Mr. Cray couldn't save his students, sentimental Mr. Cray couldn't leave the old woman's dog so weak Mr. Cray LET THEM ALL DIE!" She began with a childlike chant but the last four words were nothing short of the screams of a wild, feral beast. Grant gripped his rifle tighter, how could she know?"  
  
"Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth! It wasn't like that, how can you possibly know?" Cried the old, toughened hunter through gathering tears.  
  
"Let them die! Let them die, poor little kiddies all had to die because teacher couldn't shoot the doggy!" She continued chanting, but Grant had enough, with a scream of sheer frustration, guilt and anger he swing his rifle butt sideways into her temple.  
  
"AAH!"  
_Thunk!_  
  
She was instantly out cold, a small line of broken skin now marked on her head. He knew he should shoot her, she isn't right in the head, but she's a person, maybe she's just sick, and he couldn't let another life falter in his hands. He scooped up her limp frame and began the trek back to base.  
  
_Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!_  
  
These were the distant sounds that James heard as he lovingly trimmed the spice bushes, the first pop shocked him so much that he cut his finger with the bush-knife he did the trimming with.  
  
"What the hell is he doing? Killing a caravan?" Muttered James with an annoyed tone as he grasped his bleeding finger. But a large part of his weathered mind felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety, he knew the sound of Grant's rifle, and he also knew Grant as a precision hunter, one, two shots were all he ever needed to bring a beast down, which made James worry that he was facing something out of his league or something was making the weathered, hardened hunter afraid for his life. Both ideas sent shivers down his spine, he was always so close to panic as it were and this sent him over the edge, he sheathed his knife with trembling hands, and did his best to keep composure as he headed to his bunk. On his way he passed Marvin, who was calmly reading a tattered novel he had raided from the remnants of a local library.  
  
"Hey farmer boy" said Marvin without looking up from his book, he already knew every word and punctuation within it's covers. The book's purpose was to hide his observations of James, Marvin knew he was fragile, a lifetime of faking them made Marvin very capable of detecting when people were hiding emotions. So Marvin kept tabs on him at all times, not so much out of concern but out of curiosity.   
  
James heard Marvin's words but didn't respond, his hands were trembling and he knew his voice would give him away. He also knew that Marvin had long since stopped reading that book for he had not switched a page the entire time James was gardening, he knew the silent reader in the worn armchair kept tabs on him, and he didn't want him to have anything good to report back to Grant. He was certain that Marvin wasn't just checking on him for his sake, he was sure that he was under Grant's orders. When the old judge reached his bunk he plunged into the dark corner neighboring to his little cot and began rocking back and forth while grasping his knees to his chest. After a few minutes he felt better and slowly began to stand when all of the sudden, in the distance he heard.  
  
_BANG!_  
  
"It's just a noise, just a noise, just a...." Chanted James over and over as he rocked even faster.  
  
A few eternity-like minutes later Marvin heard the sound of Grant's worn leather boots crossing from the overgrowth of the New Tropics into their small, slightly less wild garden area. But his footfalls were far too heavy, almost like he gained a hundred pounds in his short absense. Pushed by curiosity Marvin sprang from his chair with the agility of a Panther Fox, he may not have gone on regular expeditions like Grant but he kept himself lean and agile. He was greeted by a sweaty, red-faced Grant holding a limp, black haired woman over his shoulder, he looked worn and haggard, it almost looked as if he dragged her all the way from the church by himself.   
  
"Help me!" He said walking at a faster pace once he saw Marvin, him being the perfect actor he put on a marvelous mimic of concern and worry with a little genuine curiosity shining through as he swooped in to snatch the limp load from the hunter's shoulder. The cook left her in the armchair he was just observing from. Once he did he saw her skin, but unlike his companion, the hunter, he was simply fascinated rather than repulsed.   
  
"What happened to her?" Asked Marvin maintaining the mask of a perfect concerned friend.   
  
"I knocked her out, the skin was like that when I found her, shut up and listen" said Grant catching his breath. He laid out the entire trip for him, from the bodies, to his discovery of her still breathing body trough to the Bat Hawk's demise and her episode of clairvoyance.   
  
"Wow, what exactly was she talking about man?" Asked Marvin letting genuine fascination shine through.  
  
"I used to man the school fort, you know that, and I told you how it all went to shit, but I didn't tell you why" began Grant looking less like the fearless hunter and more like a man full of guilt and remorse. "I- well my neighbor died, I think the religious gangs got to her. But she made me promise to take care of her dog no matter what, it was all she had after her family was torn apart by the wild hunter cats. I thought- I thought if I kept it locked up in the basement it wouldn't change but it did and when the time came I couldn't... I couldn't shoot it... I let all those people, the kids die because I saw my poor old neighbor in that fucking dog" finished Grant plopping down with a defeated manner onto the chair's armrest his face pointed at the weathering concrete floors.  
  
"Holly shit" said James unexpectedly appearing in the doorway. Grant jumped slightly and almost reached for his gun before he realized that he left it leaning on the doorway.   
  
"And where the hell were you princess? Napping?" Asked Grant annoyed, not only did James not help him carry her inside but he showed up only in time to hear Grant's confession and didn't even make his presence known.  
  
"I was checking my bed for the spiders, you know how they get everywhere" said James instantly making a hasty excuse, as a judge he was paid to maintain a calm and professional demeanour even in tense situations before the courts gave way to vigilante law.  
  
"Look it doesn't matter what you were doing back there, you could have been learning the tango for all I care, there's a bigger question now." Said Marvin taking up a serious and grave facade, looking from defeated and exhausted Grant to edgy James.  
  
"What the hell do we do with that one?" He said finally pointing to the limp, red woman laying unconscious in the weathered armchair.  



	5. The Judge's Past and Humanity's Future

"Maybe we can lock her up? In the basement I mean, I could even take first watch" said James. Marvin and Grant were clearly surprised by his offer, the old judge was not a powerfully built or lean man like Grant or Marvin were, nor was he particularly brave.

"Why such generosity?" Asked Marvin with a cold suspicion soaking his tone.

"Well I mean I wasn't there to yenno, drag her inside or whatever so I'll take the watch." Replied the farmer, masterfully hiding his true intentions as he had done so many times when he sat before the gavel. Marvin of course detected the lie but he also detected danger radiating off that woman, so he played along.

"We should shoot it where it sits..." Said Grant still slumped on the chair's armrest, his words were hardly above a whisper but they stunned the room into silence so quickly you would have thought that he employed a cannon and nothing less. Marvin saw logic in Grant's suggestion, for, after all, logic was as far as he could process anyone's words. However James was appalled, this was still a human being, maybe a little sick in the head and off a shade or two but it was still a living, breathing, thinking person they were so calmly discussing the execution of.

"No, what the fuck Grant? No! She's not a monster she's just sick!" Exclaimed James looking thoroughly outraged.

"OK, fuck, what if we put her totally under your responsibility? Since you're the only one who wants her alive, you take care of her, but I sure as shit am not sharing my meals with her." Said Marvin looking to Grant for the final say, the hunter looked weary, he glanced at his rifle and gave the idea of pulling that trigger a great deal of thought but in the end he simply nodded, not even bothering to look up.

"Alright" said James looking satisfied with the decision. "I'll get her to the basement" he continued as he scooped up the red woman's thin frame. Of course, the judge wasn't simply shielding her for the sake of defending human life. He had a more... Practical reason, he simply had to know. But he did his best to justify his insatiable curious impulse with the fact that he pulled her from the shooting wall. However making justifications are difficult when you're tying up a weak, unconscious and possibly sick woman to a rusty pipe.

As James slaved away with the rope Grant and Marvin were upstairs, sorting out dinner. Whilst Grant retrieved the pieces of wolf he shot Marvin was thinking aloud.

"Maybe the two kevlar guys were there when the school fell and told her about it?" He asked nobody in particular, Grant did his best to ignore him and began skinning the choice cuts.

"Yeah and maybe the black eyed episode was to get you to freak out and run so she could grab what you left behind" Marvin said, continuing his rationalizing. Grant gripped his knife tighter trying harder still to disregard his words.

"Ok and maybe she also-" began Marvin once more but was swiftly cut by the sound of the large hunting knife being thrust into the wooden counter.

_THUNK!_

"I knew every single member of personnel at that fort, neither of the stiffs were there, and can your genius chain of reasoning tell me just _how_ her eyes turned pitch black? And how her voice changed completely? No? Wow I thought you had an answer for it all!" Exclaimed Grant, his patience finally past its breaking point.

"Alright mate just thinking, don't have to snap at me" said Marvin feigning and offended tone marvelously. Grant shook his head and retrieved the knife from the table's grasp, ever since he heard the woman's words he had been overwhelmed with a wave of fresh guilt, guilt he had long since buried. Every second's passing seemed an hour of mental agony and every word uttered by his fellow survivors was as loud and as unwelcome to him as a battle horn.

"Sorry man I just... Drop it OK?" Said Grant looking slightly helplessly at the cook. Marvin could tell the old hunter was inches from his breaking point, and considering that he was the only one in the group with a large rifle at his disposal it was in the cook's best interests to keep those inches as they are.

"Yeah sure, dropped" said Marvin raising his hands in mock surrender, the room fell into an outstandingly awkward silence.

"I wonder what he's doing with her down there" said Marvin, jostled to the question by the knocking resonating through the pipes.

As Marvin and Grant wondered about the activities below their feet James was eagerly awaiting when his recently rescued prisoner would wake up, he had dragged down a simple metal stool from the bunk area and was slouched upon it, tapping his foot incessantly. Finally after what seemed to be a whole eternity the fragile woman bound to the basement's corner began to stir.

"H-hello?" She asked timidly, taking in her surroundings which were grey, dark and stank of mildew. James nearly fell off his seat from the sudden sound and movement, finally after he regained some composure he spoke to his captive.

"How's your head? Sorry, Grant can have a bit of a heavy hand, he tried to hammer in a nail once and we still have an extra source of natural light in the front room" said the judge, his words seemed closer to the ramble of a hostage rather than the prison guard.

"Um, yeah fine, oh jeez I must have really scared him, please tell him I'm sorry, I can't control the outbursts" she said filling her tone with a deep, genuine guilt, even though she was concussed and tied up she was still apologizing.

"He's a big boy he'll get over it I'm sure" replied James letting out a nervous laugh. He was bursting with so many questions for the helpless woman but it seemed as though she had to be in the middle of an "outburst" as she called them to be able to answer any of them.   
  
"So what happened to you?" Asked James, half hoping a walk down memory lane will trigger an outburst from her.  
  
"Well I was just coming round from an outburst, I was in this church-" she began explaining but James impatiently cut her off.  
  
"I mean before that, why the red skin? How did you survive this long? Why did the kevlar boys decide to air out their brains?" James questioned at the rate of a word a second. The woman naturally looked slightly overwhelmed by the amount and speed of the questions she had to answer.  
  
"OK, well the red skin I guess started happening about two weeks after the Overhaul, I thought it was just a real bad sunburn or something but it just kept growing and growing until it just covered all of me. I survived with a group of people kind enough to take me in, even despite my outbursts they kept me, but unfortunately they all started killing themselves-" Explained the woman but she was once more cut off.  
  
"Killing themselves? Why?" Asked James now thoroughly intrigued by her story.  
  
"Yes, they told me I said, terrible, personal things during my outbursts and after a while they couldn't take it I guess and they..." She said, breaking off into a sob of guilt, James appeared to be right, she was just sick, she clearly never intended for any of this to happened to the people around her.  
  
"It's OK, I believe it's not your fault, but I need to keep you down here in case Grant or Marvin disagree, OK? Now go on, the two men?" Said james swooping down to put a hand on her shoulder, she merely sobbed, however a few seconds after he comforted her the convulsions of tears turned more erratic. Her head whipped back, her eyes rolled back into her head and revealed their undersides to be completely black. 

 _Yes!_ Thought James as he with a mix of shock and insatiable curiosity stared at the woman's transformation. Finally she stopped, her night black eyes drilling right into James, her lips stretched into a horrific sneer, closer to that of malice rather than that of bemusement.  
  
"Silly judge, desperately trying to cling to the hope that he didn't kill his family after all" she said, her voice more high pitched and hoarse than any normal human's should be.  
  
"They're really dead? My wife and boy, tell me, please!" Exclaimed james, pleading to the horrible creature like one would to a jury.  
  
"Ooooh they're dead, dead and eaten, all gobbled up because the weak little judge couldn't make the choice!" She exclaimed, James was so overwhelmed by her words that he barely registered the scuffling upstairs.  
  
"Is it just me or is there something moving around just beyond the fence?" Asked Marvin looking up from the wood burning stove, merrily crackling away as it boiled the large pot, swimming with the recently skinned meat and several herbs.  
  
Grant looked up out of the bunk room window, he was in the process of cleaning his rifle and it took him a second to carefully move the rag with the parts off his lap. When he finally did manage to get a proper look he saw nothing.  
  
"No, and quit messin with me" he replied with an annoyed tone as he began assembling his trusty weapon.   
  
"Really man, I mean it, kinda looks like a naked dude on all fours, though I can't tell too well. This set Grant's alarms off, he began assembling even faster, his hands resembling the nimble machines that made the rifle in the first place. His haste was due to the fact that in his little worn, leather journal was one simple entry, it read as follows.  
  
**_The Pale Sloucher_ (** Evolution **)**  
  
Nobody ever said that humans were immune from the Overhaul, several of those that went mad enough went feral and eventually turned physically.   
_Characteristics_  
-Walks on all fours  
-Despite constant unfiltered sunlight they retain pale white skin  
-Completely black eyes, outstanding night hunters  
-Extended, snout like jaws, elongated and jagged teeth  
  
_Specs_  
Height: Depends on stature before turning feral, but usually around 5 feet 10 inches from head to toe  
Diet: Strict carnivores, likely to abandon a fresh catch of anything if given the chance to take down a human  
Weak points: Heart disposable, preferable to aim for the head or legs if they are an easier primary target.  
  
_WARNING_  
These creatures may seem completely like completely mindless feral beasts but they have malice and are highly sadistic, tormenting humans physically and mentally seems to be a favoured pastime. They are likely to "play" with a human catch, have been observed to let them go, injure them a bit on recapture again and again until the target stops running, if you are about to become its prey, do yourself a favour, spend that last bullet on yourself.  
  
That entry's existence and Marvin's description of the thing got him to get the weapon back to perfect function in record time, immediately upon completion he jammed in a magazine and loaded a round into the chamber. He ran into the kitchen.  
  
"Get away from the door!" He shouted as he shoved marvin to the ground, assuming firing position in the center of the room, wildly shifting his rifle's aim from the door to the broken window. The sloucher clearly saw that it was made and began darting around the building. Grant would see mere white flashes but by the time he turned to aim, it was gone.  
  
"What the hell dude? What is it?" Asked Marvin looking up at the frightened hunter.  
  
"No time to explain, in my pack's front pocket there's a loaded pistol, grab it, quick and get back here!" As Grant gave that command he heard what he dreaded most, a loud, drawn out low pitch scream, blended together with a savage growl, it was calling for company. Seconds later Marvin joined him at his side, pistol in hand.  
  
"Cover the door, if anything moves, shoot it!" Commanded the hunter as he directed his undivided attention to the broken window.   
  
All the while in the basement James was still recovering from what the woman said. They were really dead, a large part of him knew this but he had just a little hope that despite all odds they made it out alive.  
  
"No, shut up it's not true!" Cried the old judge, barely registering the muffled gunfire from upstairs.  
  
"Poor little wifey, she tried so hard to shield her weak little boy, but the gnashing teeth and tattooed arms were too strong." Chanted the woman, feigning a childlike quality to her horrific words.  
  
"No... No.... NO!" Sobbed James grabbing his knees and rocking back and forth for the second time that day. The red woman's words were too much, James felt guilt like he hadn't felt in months, fresh, unbound remorse coursed through his veins.  
  
"AND YOU COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!" She exclaimed, ending her statement with a horrible cackle, it appeared as though she was enjoying this immensely.  
  
"I couldn't... They would have killed me, they would have eaten me!" pleaded the pathetic looking judge to the horrible creation like she was the family he doomed to death.  
  
"So you let them die instead, are you enjoying it, the life you stole away from your wife? From your child you disgusting, pathetic little man!" She exclaimed, spittle flying from her as she shook her head violently. If James were paying any attention he would have heard shot after shot being fired.  
  
"GET SOME!" Yelled Grant feigning confidence and a gung-ho attitude as sloucher after sloucher came clawing at the window, he had long lost count of the bullets he fired, he however remembered changing two magazines, he had only one more after this one ran out. Their horrific growls and screams glued Grant's finger to the trigger as he pulled.  
_Bang!_  
And pulled.  
_Bang!_  
And pulled   
_Click!_  
The magazine had run dry, he yelled once more for Marvin to cover him as he hastily reloaded his weapon, halfway through putting the thing into the receiver he saw a flash of white, a gnash of teeth, and felt a searing pain in his right arm. He dropped the magazine and saw that one had sunk it's teeth into him, powered more by instinct then though he pulled the hunting knife from its sheath with his free hand and jammed it straight through the creature's head, the skull gave way with a sickening  _Crunch!_  
  
He kicked the thing with savage force as he pulled on his knife, blood spurted everywhere and the neck gave an even more sickening and prolonged crunch. The hunter picked up the bloodstained magazine he had dropped and began reloading, finally when he chambered a round he realized that the screams and growls had stopped. He looked over to Marvin and saw him looking back, he too was bloodstained and extremely out of breath. He gave the hunter a nod, Grant nodded back and briefly looked out of the door, outside, splayed in a circle around the doorway were one and a half dozen slouchers. He rounded the corner and saw much the same scene near the window. As he re-entered the kitchen, which was now thoroughly bloodsoaked and stank of spent powder he saw Marvin holding out his fist.  
  
"Come on you gotta give me this one" said an out of breath Marvin, Grant walked over, smiled and lightly tapped his outstretched fist, never did he expect such a calculating man as Marvin to do something as selfless as cover Grant instead of simply fleeing or barricading himself with the weapon in tow.  
  
"Now what the hell is princess doing down there?" Asked Grant moving off in the direction of the basement, Marvin, still pumping with adrenaline, followed.   
  
Upon entry to the basement they saw a bone chilling sight, the old judge was crumpled into a fetal ball in the dark corner directly opposite the woman, who had a new bit of split skin just above her eyebrow, she also appeared to have a bloody nose. James was gripping his knees close to his chest and slowly rocking, mumbling something to himself, twitching slightly, with the limited light the gas lamp in the center of the room provided one could see the knuckles on his right hand were red and raw.  
  
"What the fuck happened here?" Asked Marvin, scratching his head with the pistol grip.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
